Capitol Punishment
by KingAlanI
Summary: What if the Capitol addressed District Twelve's lax law enforcement sooner? Could the likes of Snow stay in power, or is a successful rebellion inevitable?
1. The Promotion

(Romulus Thread)

I've been a commissioned officer in Panem's Peacekeeper force for several years, but I still wasn't used to being summoned to the Head Peacekeeper's quarters. The Capitol trusted particularly loyal soldiers with assignment to their home districts, and a few years ago I had been transferred to my birthplace of District Eight. At the time, I was a captain, in charge of nearly one and a half hundred men. Now I was a lieutenant colonel, in charge of slightly over four hundred of this country's finest.

I knocked on the Head Peackeeper's door and announced "Lieutenant Colonel Thread reporting to Colonel Weaver's quarters as ordered".

"Enter, Lieutenant Colonel," a unfamiliar yet very familiar voice answered. _What is President Snow doing here?_

I opened the door to see the old man with his majestic white beard flanked by two Peacekeeper guardsmen. This elite force wore black and light brown uniforms instead of the standard pure white. Colonel Weaver also stood quietly in the background. I addressed him with "Mister President, I trust we owe the honor of your presence to a Head Peacekeeper promotion."

"That is correct, Soldier Thread," he answered.

"So what's happening to Colonel Weaver?" I asked. _If Snow wanted me to replace him, I wondered where he was going._

"Nothing," Snow said. "You're being sent to District Twelve. Panem needs you out there," he explained.

"Sir, yes sir," I replied crisply, as if I was a recruit answering a training officer.

"Your soon to be predecessor Walter Cray has neglected his duty in favor of drinking and whoring," Snow continued.

"I am a sober virgin, sir," I barked.

"Illegal behavior has proliferated in his mental absence," Snow explained. "Four and a half years ago, I had mine security rig an explosion to take out a few of the most notorious troublemakers. My covert and surgical approach to ensuring law and order in District Twelve hasn't worked, and I intend to address that before it fails further. You're just the man to implement open and wide-ranging methods."

"That I am, sir," I agreed.

"You are to be in place well before this year's Reaping…" _Which is only a month away._ "…Mayor Miles Undersee is also guilty of ignoring or tolerating lawlessness. You have my authorization to deal with him as you see fit." _That was one of the few limitations of a Head Peacekeeper's authority in his district – he needed approval to deal with the mayor, his family and his staff._

"I think a 6.59x42-sized solution may be in order," I joked, referring to the cartridge size taken by our main battle rifles.

"I like your thinking, _Colonel_ Thread," he said, emphasizing my new rank. "The 12th Peacekeepers will be reinforced to regiment strength by your battalion and a battalion of recruits. Colonel Weaver, the 8th Peacekeepers will be restocked by a unit rotating out of 11." _The Brigade of 11__th__ Peacekeepers had tough duty controlling that massive horde of unruly farmers, so Colonel Weaver was getting some good __men. I had just received a difficult posting myself, and I would need the good men of my unit._

"With Soldier Cray as my subordinate, I believe a similar solution may be in order," I offered.

"Exactly, but don't blame his subordinates for the poor leadership they received before your arrival. However, once you set up shop, crack down on any Peacekeeper or civilian malfeasance to the fullest extent of the law." _Surely not all of the __Battalion of 12__th__ Peacekeepers__ were degenerates, and even if they problem ran d__eep, they'd be outnumbered by the new arrivals._

"Of course, Mister President," I answered. "Also, who will be District 12's new Mayor?"

"My intelligence says good things about one Fergus Larkin, assuming he handles the change in Head Peacekeeper well," Snow nominated. He handed me the paperwork, and I'd personally present Mr. Larkin with the appointment.

Snow demanded this be done quickly, and it was. The 2nd Battalion of the 8th Peacekeeper Regiment, now the 1st Battalion of the 12th Peacekeeper Regiment, was entirely loaded onto transport trains that evening. District Twelve was near District Eight, and one set of train tracks went directly there. We arrived the night of July 1st, now the morning of July 2nd.

The officers' barracks was just as easy to find in District Twelve. I handed my own letter of appointment to Cray and barked "You have been relieved". He surrendered his Head Peacekeeper uniform; it looked better on me and I wouldn't dishonor it. Executing him in private wouldn't have much effect, so I issued him a standard uniform while building up to the public spectacle. Mayor Undersee wasn't yet told about his impending death either. However, I confined both Cray and Undersee to the Justice Building for the time being.

The new mayor and the old one each had a wife and daughter; Undersee's family were officially guests of Larkin's family in the mayoral house for now.

That afternoon, I saw a young man and woman brazenly strolling through the woods around the district. Evading the district security fence to get out there was a major crime in and of itself, but what they were carrying betrayed an even worse offense – poaching off the Capitol's lands. I understood food supply was one way the Capitol exercised its control over the people of Panem. I remembered the propaganda lines about how rejecting the Capitol's food supply inherently meant rejecting the Capitol's mercy and wise leadership. They both had the fairly dark skin, black hair and gray eyes common in The Seam, the dregs of District Twelve's population.

I put them under arrest as soon as they crossed to the meadow inside the fence. I would have to talk with the District Five liaison about making sure the fence was fully electrified in the future. They were genuinely surprised that the law was actually being enforced as they were dragged to a different cell in the Justice Building. My best men were organized as the support squad of the 1st Company of the 1st Battalion, and they were doing good work. The man's admittedly handsome face was particularly sullen; I would especially enjoy bringing the Capitol's wrath down upon him.

Their fathers had been amongst the troublesome miners Snow dealt with, but presenting those deaths as an accident evidently hadn't gotten the message across.

I stayed in the Justice Building instead of my standard quarters to better supervise the prisoners. I heard 'Gale Thomas Hawthorne' and 'Katniss Ingrid Everdeen' _enjoying_ what little was left of their miserable lives. That wasn't illegal, since an 18 year old with a 16 year old satisfied age of consent law. They were holding themselves against each other, but I had nothing to hold against them on that account. The next morning, July 3rd, I was thinking of dragging them to the square. However, when receiving her breakfast gruel, Katniss said "Appeal on the grounds of pregnancy". I liked most Capitol law; I'd grudgingly enforce the one that banned execution of pregnant women. The support squad of the 1st Battalion 2nd Company was a medical unit; I sent for one of their doctors.

I stood outside the cell while the test was performed. "You're one of the few sixteen year old girls who wants a pregnancy test to come back positive," the doctor joked. "And it did," he said plainly. _I understood how the Capitol punish__ed people through their loved ones; losing her boyfriend and babydaddy would be enough for now. _With both her and the rest of the district, I hoped that a few punishments would be enough to deter further offenses, but I would be glad to administer much more if the situation called for it. I would be mindful of past offenses but I would not obsess over them. Such was my law enforcement philosophy.

We dragged all three of them to the square the morning of July 4th and tied them to the posts my men had erected for such punishment purposes. At this time of day, the population was still on its way to the mines, school or wherever, so it was easy to herd them into the square to bear witness to justice. Katniss has been let go for now with an obvious unsaid warning, so I found her walking to school with her little sister.

I faced Cray and Undersee. "My predecessor and his friend in the Mayor's office tolerated far too much lawbreaking, and each gave such leadership to their subordinates – treason if intentional, massive incompetence if unintentional," I intoned. "Either way, their sentences are both death." I administered both sentences with one shot each, both bullets to the heart for near-instant kills. Cray's bedwarmers and many of their relatives even cheered his death.

I faced the young man. "I understand Gale Hawthorne was one of the more notorious criminal subordinates. For violations of the District Security Act, Anti-Poaching Act, and who knows what else, his sentence is death," I said before pouring several bullets into him.

I had some advice for their families and the rest of the district. "Someone who betrays their nation's trust has proven they cannot be trusted. They may crow about loyalty to their families, their lovers – but that optional loyalty is nothing compared to the mandatory loyalty all owe their country. Sadly, they have chosen what they want to do over what they must do. Only scum would take such lazy immorality to such a level. Treason does not merit death, treason is death – we will deliver it if the disloyalty continues. Cry for the ones you lost, but remember that they essentially brought it upon themselves – we simply administered the punishment they earned. And if you don't want to join them, don't follow their example," I intoned. "The Capitol has shown mercy by taking a few lives instead of thousands. If you reject that mercy, we will make thousands die again."


	2. Don't Fear The Reaping

(Rory Hawthorne)

Katniss, her cute little sister and their mother all came to visit our shack. She began by saying "We always thought a quick death from a bullet would be better than a slow death from starvation … or watching you starve". As she said that, she moved her arm around to point at each of us. "We never thought it would actually happen," she admitted.

Yet it turned out Gale's death wasn't the only thing 'Catnip' had to talk about. "He gave me something before he was taken away – a child." All of us seemed surprised by that. "I wish it hadn't taken losing him to make something happen between us," Katniss said morosely.

"He understood pregnant women couldn't be executed - well, he didn't follow Capitol law, but he was aware of what it was," Katniss explained. "That was brilliant – save me and have a child live on after him," she continued.

"With Gale gone and the woods closed off, we'll all have to sign up for more tesserae" she suggested. _Gale had taken tesserae for all of us, and now I had to do the same. There were so many ways in which Big Man gave me impossibly large shoes to fill. _"One can take tesserae for their children and children to be, but Reaping-age people don't usually have families of their own," Katniss stated.

"That's usually a good thing," her mom parried. I understood there were medicines to help women who didn't want babies. Katniss' mother and cute sister were both healers who were probably quite interested in that stuff.

"Yeah, the new Head had a Capitol doctor call my bluff, and the doctor joked 'You're one of the few sixteen year old girls who wants a pregnancy test to come back positive'," Katniss answered.

"You can't wallow in your grief with a baby on the way. I would know," Mom said. _Posy was born right after Dad died, and my newborn sister kept things from being even worse._

"Katniss, I know I was a horrible mother after the mine explosion," her mother admitted. "I won't be a horrible grandmother too," she promised. Prim looked even cuter as she initiated a group hug between the three of them at this tender moment. "Did you two get married?" Prim and Katniss' mom wondered. "Sadly, a lifetime commitment wouldn't have been too difficult at that point," she added.

"No. Traitors can't get married. The Capitol considers it part of the punishment. They feel if your country can't trust you, a spouse couldn't trust you either," Katniss answered, describing the propaganda with a sarcastic tone of voice Gale had made me very familiar with.

I could tell this was one of the most important meetings of our life, and I was distracted by how cute Prim was. Either I wasn't thinking straight or I was thinking very straight. I'd just go ahead and tell her; that kind of bravery wouldn't get me killed. She was last out the door when the Everdeens went back home. I successfully caught up with her, and my left hand gripped her right. Prim had an infectiously positive personality, even in these circumstances, and I gamely tried to match her smiles. I played with one of her braided ponytails and asked "Have you ever had a boy tell you you're cute?"

"No," she answered.

"Well, I just did, you cutie," I said as I grinned. The little angel kissed me - I think she just meant to brush my cheeks, but our lips definitely touched.

"Why did Katniss wait so long? This is fun!" Prim wondered.

"It sure is," I answered. "Mind if I call you Little Duck?" I asked. I knew this was Katniss' nickname for Prim as 'Catnip' had been Gale's nickname for Katniss.

"Quack," she said while laughing. It was clearly important that I now got to call her the same nickname her dear sister Katniss used.

"Good, because the ducktail of your shirt hanging out of your skirt waistband is one of the many adorable things about you," I explained.

The rest of the family soon heard about it. "Don't you know girls are icky?" Vick teased.

"Well, this one certainly isn't," I told him.

"Apparently one of my boys loved an Everdeen girl and one still does," Mom said. I opened my mouth to say something back, but the important word made me hesitate. She sensed my pause and jumped in with "Come on, Rory dear. Even before she kissed you, you couldn't stop talking about her." _Well then, I'd tell her that too._

The next morning, I went over to her shack to walk to school with her. "Little Duck, I think I love you," I said. _Speaking of school, our teacher always taught us to start with the key statement and then explain it._ "I see why Gale loved Katniss – both you girls are so smart and so pretty."

"I think I love you too, Little Man," she answered. "And you're like your brothers, clever and handsome," she added. This time our lips definitely touched on purpose. Katniss and their mom both smiled at us.

After Prim and I walked home from school together, Katniss wanted to talk to us. "Prim is going to be very lucky to have someone like Gale in her life. You take after your brother in general – you all know how much he meant to me as a friend over the past few years, and he was such a wonderful lover in the few days we had left. I hope you have more time than we did. May the odds…," she said.

"…be ever in your favor," I finished.

She cried a bit. "Sounds like something Gale would say," she explained through her tears. I actually joined her in sobbing. "He lives on in his brothers…someone else is going to be lucky to have Vick," she added. "Gale sure put that big thing in his pants to use," she admitted.

"That sounds almost like girl talk," Prim teased.

"When you're old enough to have that deep a connection with a man that deep inside you, you'd understand why I changed my tune so quickly. I hope Rory makes you feel that good some day," she explained.

(Romulus Thread)

If Cray and Undersee could work together against enforcing the law, myself and Larkin could collaborate on furthering the Capitol's interests, which is what our positions were intended for. Planning for the Reaping was at the forefront of my mind; he was thinking of something afterwards. "A lot of existing couples marry right after their last Reaping," Mayor Larkin said.

"It's like that in other districts too," I answered. "Your point?"

"I wouldn't feel right officiating weddings with my own marriage on the rocks," he explained.

I observed that "You and Angela don't seem particularly distant, but you don't seem particularly close either".

"Yes, I haven't been a bad husband, but I haven't been a good one either," he admitted. "I haven't been adulterous or violent, so she can't force a divorce on those grounds, but I haven't agreed to one or made her not want one in the first place."

His personal problems were distracting him from his duty. _That's why Peacekeepers were restricted with rules too tough for the rest of Panem._ I advised him to "Get divorced and get back to work".

To his credit, he took care of it quickly. Angela readily agreed to it, as I thought she would. His father James and daughter Bridget were also at least glad that he was finally being honest. They remained as guests in the Mayor's house as part of the deal. The former mayor's daughter Margaret was good friends with that knocked up traitor Katniss; maybe Bridget would be a better influence on her.

Reserve forces from out west were usually needed to help Reaping Day run smoothly, but increasing the regular District Twelve garrison from battalion size to regiment size already more than covered my needs. Snow even sent us the Reaping Day supplies early, on the same train as the battalion of recruits from District Two. This included banners, broadcast equipment, and screens to show a film about the importance of the Games and later broadcast the Games themselves.

Much of the recruit battalion really was fresh out of training; some of its personnel, especially the officers, had a few months to a couple years in the force. Lieutenant Alexander Hawkins had enlisted last summer after his last Reaping. He came to me bearing some of the Games gear.

There weren't strict rules against fraternization between high-level and low-level commissioned officers, so I started talking to him. He was looking forward to family life after his twenty years were up, like many in the force. _I simply didn't think about it much._ He was the first of three children his father had after serving. The tradition of service was The Capitol's favorite part about its veterans' family life. His sisters were serving in another way, dreaming of becoming Hunger Games Victors. Out here, people feared the Games they would almost certainly die in. In District Two, they recognized the honor. "Maybe Clove would have volunteered this year," he mused. "I would have liked to be in the tribute escort."

"It is a great honor to be posted to your home district. It was a highlight of my pre-Head career." I agreed. "I'm not from Two," I added, not wanting to give any further details. "I'll assign your platoon to the tribute escort here, then," I ordered. Here they might have to drag the miserable little kids who didn't recognize the glorious honor, courage and sacrifice in being a tribute.

"Sir yes sir," he said enthusiastically, the only right answer.

"Your service is a great gain to your country, but a great loss to the women of your district," I told him.

I had already executed a Soldier Darius King for defying orders in my cleanup of what remained of District Twelve's criminal element. His superior, a Lieutenant Purnia, sometimes second-guessed me in an officious manner, and that I could at least respect – even I didn't know Capitol law perfectly. Most citizens of this benighted district had learned to behave even if they hadn't before, yet some miscreants hadn't gotten the message in time or had chosen to ignore it.

Some of the black marketers were executed outright. A few more died from injuries sustained in punishments not strictly capital that often ended up that way. I remembered a one-armed alcohol smuggler who collapsed from the lashes on her back after I had personally whipped her. The handle of my whip had a place of honor on my belt next to my pistol and some magazines of battle rifle ammunition. Eventually I had to swing only a few lashes or even just tap the handle to get the Capitol's authority across.

There was an abandoned warehouse called The Hob that had become a center of illegal trade in illegal goods. I had my men put it to the torch. It flared up instantly, since it was coal-infused wood like most of this district. A few stragglers ran out burning and were shot. One of them was identified as Jack Barton, another child of a treasonous coal miner.

(Peeta Mellark)

The district had nearly lost Katniss earlier this summer, and could lose her again in the imminent next Reaping. The odds weren't in her favor, since she had taken so many tesserae. I admired how much she did to support her darling sister and grieving mother. I was intimidated by her bravery, doubly so with Gale in the picture. Sadly, he was taken from us for the 'crime' of being just as loyal to his family as Katniss was to hers. So she was carrying his child. I'd love it as I loved her. I dreamed about her all the time, whether or not I was sleeping, and that included bearing my children some day. Yet if she was already having his, that day was safely in the future even if the odds were in my favor in the bedroom, the bathroom, or any of the other places where I had thought about making love to her.

Katniss brought Prim by the bakery to look at the treats they couldn't afford, and Prim rushed off to go to the Hawthorne house. The time to tell her was now, finally let her know how I had felt since the start of school nearly eleven years ago. "Katniss, we all know how wrong it is what they did to Gale, but there is another boy who's always loved you," I started.

"Who?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Me," I answered, noticing the surprise on her face in the few seconds of silence. "I have been, ever since the first day of school. Like your mother, once I heard an Everdeen singing voice, I was a goner."

"I thought he met her selling poached herbs," Katniss offered. "Well, is that why you gave me bread years ago, because you'd always cared about me?" she guessed, to sort of change the subject.

"Yes," I answered. It was left unsaid how we could both never forget that day.

"Well, give me a kiss now," she ordered.

That was an instruction I was glad to follow. Her lips were as sweet as I had imagined. Thread's thugs had closed off the fence four days ago, but she still had the smell and the taste of the woods on her. _Or was that just my imagination?_

"Your baby will hear beautiful lullabies, but right now your boyfriend wants to hear your gorgeous voice…sing for me, Katniss," I pleaded. She did. Now that she was in love with me, _The Valley Song_ was even more beautiful than it was the day I had fallen in love with her.

Dad had finally worked up the guts to leave Mother. He deserved better, and I think he had found it. Katniss' mother had experienced a debilitating loneliness since Katniss' father died. My father was one of many Town men who had fallen in love with her only to see her go off to the Seam with Mr. Everdeen. She came home with him one night in mid-July, the same evening I brought Katniss to the house. We were all too focused on our own significant others to pay much attention to the other couple.

It was several days after I had first confessed my love for Katniss. "The fancy cookies and cakes are so beautiful because of your frosting and icing work," Katniss told me while visiting the bakery yet again.

"Thank you!" I joyously said back. That's one artistic pleasure my mother hadn't denied me, because it was 'useful enough' to her.

"Could you draw a picture of me?" she asked in such a sweet voice.

"Drawing figures is harder than drawing patterns on pastries, but I can try," I answered. "Especially with a figure as beautiful as yours."

"Well, get your paper and pencils." she said confidently. "I want to be alone with you so you can draw me _naked_," she whispered. _Wow!_ Unfortunately, my penis could not be used as an easel, but it would certainly be hard enough.

Once we closed the door and I put my drawing things down on the table, she put her arms around my shoulders and pulled me close so we could taste each other again. This time, she put her tongue into my mouth, which tasted even sweeter than each others' lips.

Somehow her clothes had to come off if I was to draw her without them, and we both approached that task eagerly. I untucked her blouse and ran my hands up it, to finally have her firm little breasts under my fingers like I had so often dreamed of. She gasped as I rolled each nipple between thumb and forefinger. "I've had plenty of time to think about how to please you," I explained. She pushed her skirt down and kicked it away while I undid the blouse buttons.

Now my dreams were real – Katniss in my room without clothes. "Gale may have been the first man inside me," she said. _With you as the seco__nd real soon, her aura of confidence indicated._ "but you're the first to see me like this," she added.

"What?" I wondered.

"With him, I yanked my pants down just far enough to do the deed quickly, and he pounded me fiercely, as befit the aggressive young man he was," she answered. _Even if he was better-equipped than I was, he certainly wouldn't have hurt her, since he had cared about her as much as I still do. _She changed the conversation back to me by saying "Now I want to savor every sweet moment with the gentle young man you are".

It took all my self-control to sit down and do the drawing she wanted. She also had to work at it to stay still. Yet I was still careful to properly sketch her. Her long dark braid. Her smooth and cheerful face, even darker than the rest of her skin due to many summers out in the sun. Her muscular right arm, developed and required by drawing back a bow – I had long since noticed that it was a bit bulkier than the left. Her lithe legs, from running through the woods. The black hair on them and between them. _I heard some guys couldn't stand that on a female, but I thought it was wonderful. It helped make her look like a woman instead of a little girl, and heck, __I thought most anything about Katniss was beautiful._ The pink between them. The dark brown nipples in the middle of coppery areolae in the middle of bronze breasts.

I blew some graphite dust off the paper, looked at it and said "Finished" to call Katniss over.

"You're amazing," she said.

"You were already beautiful; I simply demonstrated that fact," I said to return the compliment.

"Something in your pants is also demonstrating that," she purred. _I was only average size, but everything I had was beyond ready for her._ I dropped them as quickly as I could; my undershorts went down with them. She smiled as my manhood finally sprung free for her. I yanked my shirt over my head with equal speed. She lay on the bed with her splayed legs dangling off the edge of it.

I knelt down to kiss her _there_ and she exploded in both juices and squirming. _She loved that but didn't want to be teased._ I stood up and finally could put my manhood into her womanhood, like I had fantasized about since I knew what that part of my body was for. I held her hips to better thrust into her, and her lower lips gripped my shaft even more tightly. It wasn't long before I shook and felt my seed pump into her. I did not care that Gale's had already taken root.

I slid my hands under her back so I could wrap my arms around her waist. I lifted her at arms' length, and turned around so I could take my turn lying down on the bed. "You're so strong, and isn't carrying me much more fun than hauling sacks of flour?" she said. _Her_ mouth on _my_ crotch got me hard again even quicker than I thought. Then she sprung forward to sink her lower lips down onto my pole for the second time in this already amazing evening. I kept on pushing up against her as she pushed down, and as we shook together, she said "I think I underestimated this whole 'boys' thing." She laid down in my arms as I had always dreamed.

"Gale was bigger than me, wasn't he?" I asked nervously.

"Yes, but you were still big enough to make me happy, very happy," she said reassuringly. "Besides, I think what matters is the guy it's attached to – I loved him and I love you."

(Phillip Mellark – Peeta's father)

Merchant Section folk were still punished by Thread and his enforcers, but frankly, the relatively well off part of District Twelve wasn't as affected by the new order of things. Also, I liked the example the new mayor set by getting a divorce that was a long time coming. The paperwork for Priscilla and I was finalized on July 13th. The ex-Mrs. Larkin helped convince her to stop holding onto me for spite's sake. The boys all stayed with me and would help run the bakery. She moved back in with her parents, for who else would love her at this point?

I had always dreamed about Ingrid Kolster, now Everdeen. Now I was able to make that dream a reality. Peeta finally talking to Katniss had emboldened me to talk to her mother. "Ingrid, I know why my son is so fascinated with your daughter," I opened. "She's her father's daughter, but she takes after you too. You're both beautiful," I explained.

"I was beautiful once," she said morosely.

"It's inexcusable how you were shunned by your 'family' and worn down by life in The Seam, but you'll always be beautiful in these blue eyes." I saw hers light up. She certainly hadn't had a man look at and talk to her like that since the mines stole her Jacob over four and a half years ago. I leaned in for a kiss and she more than gave it to me. Her lips met mine, and as I brushed her long dirty blonde hair out of her eyes, I could see that she wanted more. We gripped each others' hands tightly on the walk towards my house. I almost didn't notice Peeta walking in ahead of me similarly infatuated with Katniss.

I carried her to my bedroom, which I had slept in alone even since long before the divorce. "Well, I know why my daughter is so enamored with your son. You Mellark men are so tender and gentle, and still so strong. I knew how interested you were, and I was starting to feel a spark again myself. That gave me a few days to get back on birth control," she said. Then she gave an order I had been waiting most of my life to receive: "Make love to me".

While we were still standing up, she undid her blouse's buttons. Even after two decades of the ravages of living in the Seam, her chest still had its special allure. "They can't kiss back, but you can sure kiss them," she suggested seductively.

"I think I shall," I answered. I popped one breast out of her bra and softly sucked on the nipple, then took the other one into my mouth. Once both her orbs had been satisfied, I leaned on the edge of the bed and braced myself with my arms as she sensually stripped. It seems she hadn't forgotten much in the bedroom, and my penis sure remembered how to respond to a real woman. I took off my own clothes, and I could tell how much she liked my bulge springing into view. I carried her sturdy frame, now with no clothes hanging on it, to the bed. I felt my manhood pressing into her hip and wanted to press it somewhere else as soon as possible. I wrapped her in the blankets and slid in next to her. With blankets on one side and a hot naked body on the other, we each felt alive for the first time in a long while. I climbed on top of her and pushed her legs apart. I felt her crotch and my hand came back covered in her juices, indicating that she couldn't wait any longer for me to be inside her either.

I lined up my tip with her most personal folds of skin and brought my chest down onto hers as I slowly entered her. She soon arched back against me and squirmed with pleasure, moaning "Phillip…Phillip…Phillip" in a tone of voice unique to these private moments. I kept going in and out of her with tender yet possessive strokes. Soon I spasmed and felt my seed fill her. "I forgot how much I missed this – in a man's arms with nothing on and nothing but me in his eyes," Ingrid said as we basked in the afterglow. _That's what I alw__ays dreamed of having with her. I had only a shadow of that with Priscilla even before she turned into the witch I was glad to finally divorce._ Ingrid fell asleep first, and she did look even better when she was resting.

Peeta woke us up by knocking and saying "First batch of bread is ready".

"Let us get dressed," I mumbled back.

"Us?" he wondered. "Good going, old man!" he shouted back.

"It seems you didn't lack for an Everdeen woman in your bed either," I parried.

Prim was smarter than the average twelve year old; she had figured out where her mother and sister had gone, and came over bringing cheese from her goat. Peeta said the goat was named Lady, that Katniss had bought it, and that Prim and their mother nursed it back to health. _I gave my son credit__ for paying such close attention to the girl he loved even though he hadn't been able to talk to her until recently._ The cheese was so soft it spread like butter, especially after being hit by the steam coming off the bread. The breakfast was normal for us, maybe a bit fancy, but it was a feast for the Everdeens. The bread was to the side of chicken, chopped tomatoes and other vegetables on a bed of noodles.

"To the three most beautiful women in District Twelve," Peeta said while raising his glass of juice.

"I'm still a cute girl to Rory," Prim announced.

"Just wait until you grow up, looking like your mother and all," I said. "Him, me and my youngest son are all very lucky guys," I added.

"Now who gets to tease who about not having a girlfriend?" Peeta jabbed at Pumpernickel, the middle brother.

"Turnabout is fair play, I suppose," the second of the twins admitted.

"Pump, you can have Delly Cartwright," Pan the eldest joked.

"Even Peeta didn't want to date her," Pumpernickel recognized. "She's fun to be around, no wonder Peeta spends time with her as a friend, but she doesn't look all that great," he assessed.

We all seemed much happier since we came into each others' lives and some of us came into each others' genitals. This was all despite the Capitol abuse meted out by Thread and his associates; I wondered how long that would last.

(Cato Adams)

Only a couple weeks until the big day, when I become a Tribute, and only a couple more weeks until I become a Victor. It was my destiny to succeed at what my father had died trying to do. My biggest threat would be the girl from my district. Someone like me from District Two, or maybe someone from One or Four, won it most every year. In fact, the District Two female Maria had won last year's 73rd Games. The odds were in my favor to give us a consecutive pair. My mentor Brutus, a sort of father figure, had won the 43rd Games right after our district's tall stonemason daughter Lyme won the 42nd. Gloss and Cashmere, siblings from One, were back-to-back Victors when I was seven and eight. The four of them had been the only consecutive pairs from anywhere in Panem at any time in the Games' history.

Clove Hawkins wanted to fuck me; she would have to settle for fighting me. I kept turning her down because she was a year too young for me. I had plenty of young women slightly older than her in my bed; she was waiting for me to change my mind. _Are you sure you want your first man to be as big as me?_ I wondered in a self-congratulatory manner. I wanted Maria, a lot of the guys and some of the gals at Academy did, but like most attractive Victors, she was busy with Capitol lovers instead of hometown folks.

Mother wanted me to pick one, not a different one every night. I wanted to eventually choose a woman of equal status, not some girl to look down on. My attraction to Maria was about that as much as what shone about her in particular. At six feet two inches tall, I physically looked down on most females, but that was fine. Sometimes I assessed prospects as "I have several inches on her and I want to put several inches in her."

The more I thought about it, the more Clove seemed like great girlfriend material after all. Her attitude matched my own fiery personality, but she really could be sweet underneath too. We trained for the Games in one of the many caves in District Two's mountains. Clove happened to leave first one day and I ran after her along the trail. "Spice, I got something for ya," I announced while laughing to myself.

"What is it, Big Bad Cato?" she shot back.

"My lips," I answered. I wrapped an arm around her and lifted her up to place her face at the same level as mine. Our mouths met, and the way she kissed back, I knew this was no mistake.

"That was one fiery lip-lock!" she said triumphantly once I put her back down. "So you do love me after all!" she said cheerfully. The hometown females were tough as nails but usually had something girly about them; with Clove, that manifested itself in her crush on me. She also used knives as craft tools on the rare occasions she wasn't throwing them, and would likely use one of her projects as a token of home once she entered the arena. My token was a gold coin with the District Two seal and my birth year, similar to what my father had used.

"You're so good in training now, imagine how good you'll be in the Games when you're closer to the maximum age," I told Clove, as I often had. Using my mouth in another way had actually convinced her to wait - with her new boyfriend leading the field, she definitely wouldn't enter the arena this year.

Her Peacekeeper brother was nowhere to be found; he had been here, but he must have been transferred. Clove had wanted her brother to be here as part of her escort. Maybe he'd be back.

Now who would I be going into the arena with? Livia Aurelius II was one of the other good female candidates this year. However, there would be bad blood between us – her mother, the first Livia Aurelius, had killed my father Julius Adams in the arena in order to become a Victor. This would make it even harder to hold the Career Alliance together. Besides, like Clove, she was an underage talent who could afford to wait.

In the outer districts, to be a tribute was shameful because of the near-certain death. Here, it was still risky, but glorious. We had many who wanted to volunteer for the Games, and our past Victors voted on who got the honor of trying to join them. I knew I was a shoo-in, so I wasn't surprised by the 10-1 vote. I figured the dissent came from Livia out of spite for Julius and myself, or to get easier competition for her daughter. Voting on the girls fell into even further disarray once Clove pulled out. I wouldn't vote for Livia, but her mother and some of the rest would. It narrowly went against her. I'd end up fighting Claudia Eboracum – maybe Lyme won support for another stonemason's daughter.

(President Coriolanus Snow)

The centerpiece of my control over the Districts had arrived, when we took their children and made them glad we didn't take more.

Two glamorous youngsters stepped forward for One, as usual.

I had expected District Two to put forth Livia daughter of Livia. We didn't get her or any other children of Victors this year, but the son of fallen victor Julius Adams spoke almost too quickly to step forward for Two. Cato was now headed for either Victors Village or his district's tribute cemetery, where he'd be buried in chronological order instead of alongside his father, interred nineteen years prior.

The boy from Four was trying to win even earlier than Finnick had. Some victory Odair had – grudgingly fucking beautiful Capitol women (and men) because he'd rather have that homely crazy fellow-winner girl back home.

The boys from Six and Eleven were the only one who had comparable bulk to the male from Two, but they were silly outer-district people who actually believed the 'law' against training for the Games.

I liked making them die while they were so young – we got one twelve year old, a girl from Eleven. At her first Reaping, she was the _oldest _of six – can't those dark farmers control their base sexual urges?

District Twelve was divided into a poor town and an even poorer coal miners' section. They were often angry at each other instead of at the Capitol, that a mix of what they looked like and what they didn't have. Oddly, we got two kids from the town this year. There were only a few hundred there, compared to several thousand miners and their families, and the town people were just barely well off enough to not need tesserae. So the odds _really _weren't in the favor of Delly Cartwright and Pumpernickel Mellark. The new mayor had just gotten divorced and that was his ex-wife's niece, but I didn't care about Fergus Larkin's personal life because of the good work he and Romulus Thread were doing. Sometimes the Games could distract people from the brutally effective law enforcement also present in other areas of the life of Panem. Thread had done brilliantly in finally bringing that to District Twelve. This is how we remember our past, and this is how we safeguard our future.


	3. Pre-Quell Games

**A/N**

I revised Chapter 2 - minor expansion and rephrasing of a few scenes, a few typo fixes

**Chapter**

(Fergus Larkin)

People lived in fear that the Capitol would make an example of them for the failed rebellion decades ago. To dare complain was one of the very acts of rebellion the Games were designed to be a warning against. My comrade Romulus Thread made sure that message got across. At least this year's two marched grimly instead of needing to be dragged. One of his soldiers took particular pride in walking the girl up to stage. The girl was my ex-wife's niece. I had cared for Angela once, certainly enough to accidentally plant Bridget in her, but I had never cared much for the other Cartwrights.

After the fear passed for the rest of their lives, many pairs decided to spend the rest of their lives together. I knew my Justice Building would be awash in paperwork. I set an early alarm to make sure I was in Registration Hall within plenty of time.

I was a recent divorcee, but I spoke to the newlyweds anyway, offering some advice that came from experience. "I can at least advise you on what not to do. Marry her because you love her, not just because you knocked her up." Well, that wasn't a problem for the two young men from the Seam standing before me. That pair and the several Seam men marrying women were dressed in pitifully plain clothes.

I was a single man now, but I still remembered the words without hesitation. The last line stood out, as usual. "Will you honor and cherish the one you've chosen, throughout all the highs and lows this life presents you with?" _I hadn't._

Dozens of voices responded in unison with "I will."

A legally valid marriage required two witnesses not related to the couple who were themselves of marriageable age. It was traditional for the mayor and his or her spouse to sign as such unless the couple had someone special in mind. Bridget had turned sixteen earlier this summer, old enough for this. After all, I had been sixteen and her mother seventeen when we had stood on the other side of the room. Sixteen year olds could marry no older than eighteen, and seventeen no older than twenty, but no such caveats applied to the witnesses. My father had turned sixteen forty-nine years ago. I was surprised my old man's left hand didn't cramp up as he kept filling in that small box on the certificates. James would probably walk Bridget into the hall when her time came. I deserved that slight. He treated his granddaughter better than I treated my daughter, as he reminded me and I admitted. Bridget was really taking after James' talent for the fiddle too.

(Pumpernickel Mellark)

Everyone seemed to like Delly, she was just that kind of person. "You need to get sponsors more so than make friends, but that shiny personality of yours will help all the same," Haymitch assessed. At least that's what I think he said through the drunken slurring.

I was her friend's brother, not her friend himself. "That's sort of an angle for the audience but not much," Haymitch said. Then he leaned in to whisper to me. "Besides, it would remind the audience of how much pain Peeta must be in, along with the other folks back home, and that's the side of the Games the Capitol doesn't want people to see." Peeta certainly wouldn't emerge a victor even if one of us did. At least we both got to see him finally win Katniss' heart.

"Delly, when the gong goes off, get as far away from the Cornucopia as you can, as quickly as possible," Haymitch advised. From the look on Delly's face, one wouldn't have needed to tell her twice even if it was possible to speak to a tribute in the arena. "Pumpernickel, you're a strong boy, but even so, stay away from the heart of the Cornucopia, for the Careers are stronger yet."

In school wrestling competitions, the only two people who truly challenged me were my brothers, but the brutal boy from Two looked like he could pin all three of us. Cato was clearly the most dangerous of the competition. Glimmer of One was a classic beauty; Claudia of Two wasn't, but she had her own charms. Cato seemed to have the discipline to ignore the feminine charms of his competitors. The tall lanky boy from One did not seem so smart. Pumpernickel knew what unrequited love looked like in his brother, and he saw it in Marvel now as Tribute Hoffman gazed at his district partner.

Their performance in training was rated on a scale of one to twelve, twelve being highest. Cato led with a ten, followed by his fellow Careers with eights and nines. "No wonder, since they've trained for years back home already, an open secret," Haymitch muttered.

"My seven doesn't seem so bad," I answered.

"It's better than District Twelve usually does, that's for sure," Haymitch agreed. Delly's three was an example, although I hoped for her sake it was an underestimation.

The girl from Five seemed quite clever, and I wondered if her smarts would get her as far as Delly's charm or the brute strength on display elsewhere. Rue was a charming little thing, which took away some of Delly's spotlight. Her district partner was near as imposing as Cato, more so because Thresh glared silently instead of Cato's confident charm. Thresh recognized the tragic foolishness of this whole affair, while Cato was participating fully in it.

The arena was a forest that reminded me of what I'd seen through the fence. Maybe the Capitol even built the arena near District Twelve. However, the Capitol darkened the windows as we were flown there specifically so we wouldn't have any clues until the platforms pushed us to the top of the tubes. Katniss would know what she was doing here, but she had that sister and she was going to have a child. I was especially grateful for their sake as well as Peeta's that she wasn't here. Gale would have had similar experience, if he hadn't been executed for acquiring it.

With further rage on their behalf, I charged towards the pile of supplies, closer to the center than Haymitch would have liked. It paid off as I grabbed a huge red backpack. I had to elbow and shoulder-slam the District Six boy to get him to release his grip on it. Cato made him a target in training for not much reason, and I had just turned him into an enemy for very good reason. He grabbed something from the periphery as he retreated.

I didn't see Delly, so she must be on the other side of the circle. I did see blood that was far too much for a butcher, let alone a baker. Several children were cut or stabbed by other children in a matter of minutes. My stomach heaved, and I regurgitated the rich Capitol breakfast onto the grassy ground of the arena. That was the last thing I needed. Food was precious in the arena, and most of the tributes had stuffed themselves with Capitol food in the few days since the Reaping. Besides, the scene did not help me make a good impression. My strength did not necessarily make me skilled at other physical activity, but being healthy helped make me a decent runner, which I desperately needed to be right now. With the vile taste of vomit in my mouth, I hoisted the pack onto my shoulders and ran.

Delly had fled the Cornucopia entirely; part of our plan had been for me to share my supplies with her. However, it was not to be. Claudia had searched the Cornucopia particularly thoroughly on her fellow Careers' behalf. She emerged wielding a wicked knife, only to throw it at Delly. As Delly fell from being shot in the back, my response almost felt instinctual. I folded my left thumb and pinky in on each other, kissed the middle three fingertips, and raised the hand to the sky. It was an ancient gesture of respect in District Twelve, often used for this kind of final goodbye. The whole district would be touched, but especially her brother James, cousin Bridget, father John, aunt Angela, grandfather George. The other deaths had received no such public acknowledgement.

I counted thirteen cannons, children killed in an hour's time, and all I could think about was not being one of the next ten. I ran toward some fields at the bottom of a hill, but saw a Career chasing me with a bloody spear. I was resolved that my blood would not be added to the spearhead. I turned around and tripped the girl, pinning her. She hadn't fallen on the blade itself since she held it away from her body in case of such a fall. However, her body trapped the spear itself, so I couldn't grab her own weapon to kill her. I found a small knife in a leather pouch in one of my pack's front outer pockets, flicked open the blade, and drove it into her neck.

Well, it was a wheat field at the bottom of the hill. I didn't have yeast or much else, but I could still do something with this. I walked through the field with knife drawn, and heard someone else rustling. Thresh walked towards me with a blade of his own. He lowered it and said "Oh, Twelve, I thought you were Two. I can work with you." And so the farmer and the baker subsisted on simple bread while laying in wait.

Thankfully, nothing more happened the first day, only a nighttime reminder of that morning's slaughter. I had participated in it, hanging my head in shame at _Di__strict Four, Pearl_. Her district partner had also died in the opening chaos, the only other Career. I had also lost someone, crying a bit at _District Twelve, Delly_. "That's because of your district partner, isn't it?" Thresh realized. "Sweet girl, Rue liked her. That little flower better win if one of us two doesn't."

"Everybody liked Delly, including my little brother," I pointed out.

"I got a sister, but she's as big as I am," Thresh replied. "Our grandma raised us." I figured what happened to the parents was an unpleasant truth the Capitol didn't want the audience to know about, and Thresh realized that. Turns out he wasn't very talkative in general.

There were no deaths the second or third day, but the Capitol bloodlust was slaked again on the fourth day. Somebody got the boy from Eight. The fifth day was also silent.

I woke up with a feeling that the sixth day was going to be anything but. I was right, hearing a cannon go off as I was finishing my simple flatbread breakfast. "One and Two, Rue and the boys from Six and Seven were the only others left – who didn't make the final eight?" Thresh wondered.

Then it hit me that I really had a chance to win this thing. This was the first time I remember someone from District Twelve making it into the final eight. I could visualize the Capitol interviewing the boys and the old man back home, as I'd seen happen in other districts countless times.

Another cannon sounded, and again we had no clue whose death it heralded. We were about to be very informed, however. I saw a group of tributes approaching our valley. I tapped Thresh's thick shoulder and pointed out "Career alert!"

Glimmer was first into the field. Thresh showed no mercy, stepping out of the grass to choke her to death, a quick task for a big man against a woman of average build. She bared a machete, but Thresh kicked it away and it got lost amongst the tall plants.

"She's there!" I heard Cato call out, pointing in another direction, towards Rue. The little girl aid in her interviews that she couldn't be caught, and the way she was moving, she had a point. However, Claudia could shoot, and the sight of another knife in a back sent Thresh flying out of the field in a rage. Claudia went off to examine body and retrieve her blade, leaving Cato in the way and a more convenient target. Thresh nearly caught Cato off-guard and disarmed him, but not quite. Cato brutally swung his big blade down, and Thresh's big knife wasn't nearly enough to parry it. My ally quickly died a gruesome death.

However, Thresh had distracted Cato and Claudia from my presence, and I gladly took the opportunity to remain in hiding. There was no more bloodshed that day, and the evening's gruesome news pointed out the boys from Six and Seven as the day's early deaths. Cato must have avenged himself on 'Ashton Moio' for the imagined slight in training. This left me here alone with Marvel, Claudia and Cato.

Two more days brought no more cannons. I was surprised by the next one, since they hadn't found me yet and I thought the remaining three were still allies. It turns out Marvel was on the receiving end of the career pack disintegrating. Two days after that, Cato and Claudia came back for me. She couldn't shoot through the dense thicket, so I was able to catch her off-guard as Thresh had with Glimmer.

Cato made camp at the top of the hill, the two of us waiting for the other to move. _You didn't puke the last few times. Only one more._ I had captured Claudia's knives, but it was hard to throw them upwards, and at any angle, it was hard to figure out the weapon by instinct instead of years of training.

Cato finally charged, and when he closed the distance, he pulled a knife from a scabbard in his belt. I suppose that was actually easier to work with in close quarters than his big sword. I grabbed his right wrist and tried to push the blade away, but his strength proved too much even for me and I felt the steel trace a line of blood across my throat.

(Phillip Mellark)

Could the Capitol be any crueler? I say that not only because it was my own child dead this time, but because District Twelve's hope was teased even worse than usual before one of the usual suspects crushed it. Ingrid had started to get close to the boys, sons she hadn't had, like Katniss and Prim as daughters I hadn't had. This reopened scars from Maysilee Donner's death, Ingrid's old friend who was killed by the arena twenty-four years prior. Even she couldn't heal wounds like that.

People took me for a gentle man, and that was mostly true, but there were a select few things that sent me into a rage, and this was apparently one of them. Yet Thread would show what happened to people who dared speak the truth. He had already executed one of the district's firebrands; the relatively calmer folk like me were even more likely to see the sense in submission.

Pan had taken Pumpernickel's death hard, and apparently had taken something else hard as well. He wandered around town in the evening and stumbled back home in the morning only to say "The Castle twins." I did not need to speculate as to how Raven and Robin had comforted him. Pan was hardly the first young man from town to sleep with one or both of them. And so love was a way to cope with pain; I was surrounded by people who knew that all too well.


	4. Phoenix

(Pan Mellark)

In these two short months, Ingrid Everdeen already felt like more of a mother to me than my birth mother ever had. "Momma," I said. "Our little family's going to get bigger."

In walks Peeta, with his hand around Katniss' waist. "So you got Raven or Robin knocked up?"

"Not exactly," I admitted.

"Both of them?" Mom guessed. Correctly.

"Yes."

"Women who live together tend to be fertile around the same time," she explained in a teacher's tone. _"Or not fertile, and you gotta watch out for that too!" Pumpernickel may have joked._

"Congratulations on the sort-of-twins with the twins," Peeta offered. "But one singing angel is enough for me," he said while turning back to Katniss.

Mom cast an obscene gesture at the back of a Peacekeeper standing on the street outside our window. "Ever since _certain people_ cut off the woods, I've been running low on birth control herbs, and those Castle girls were some of my best customers. Well, at the rate they were going, they were bound to end up with kids eventually, and now those kids will have an awesome dad."

"Thank you. They will," I answered.

"Go and make love to them again," Peeta suggested. "Since they're already pregnant, they can't get pregnant again," he pointed out.

"It seems you are very familiar with that concept," I observed, pointing to the arms wrapped around Katniss.

"I learned it the _hard_ way, alright," Katniss joked. We deserved some happiness amidst the chaos and insanity, I thought, and they'd found it in each other's hearts and other body parts. I didn't want to think about my father like that, but it was working that way for him too.

With Pumpernickel soon to be buried, I needed another painkiller, and nothing quite compared to those beautiful, lusty young women. When I walked into their house, their father Russel glared at me a bit. He probably realized the same logic Peeta did, and I told him "Unfortunately, I can't marry both your lovely daughters or choose between them". Their mother Ruth was excited about grandchildren, and happy to see the young man responsible for them. Their brothers Razorbill and Roadrunner, both older and not twins, were nowhere to be seen. They weren't as close as their sisters, so they might or might not be out together.

Raven greeted me first by their bedroom door, and said "Back for more, you stud?" She was the older one by a few minutes, slightly shorter, and also had some nice freckles. She would have been a bit chubbier too if the District Twelve diet had allowed it. I could see that in her frame, which I enjoyed studying rather closely.

I felt myself getting a bit chubbier in a way, and answered "More of you two pretty girls? Of course." They began to compete at pulling my clothes off, a game everybody wins. When Robin slid out of her dress, I pushed her panties to the side and intended to fuck her while were both standing in the middle of the room, but she had an even better idea. She nudged me in the direction of the bed, and I made a point of dramatically falling down on the mattress. She pushed her own panties back to the side to start riding me. While Raven just lifted her skirt and lowered her crotch into my face. My tongue knew what to do as well as my cock, even though I hadn't fucked both of them at the same time before. Last time, I took turns climbing on top of each of them while the other touched herself and loudly talked about how good my muscles looked glistening with sweat.

I got to look at Raven's pretty little ass and short blonde hair while she faced her sister. Despite being born together, they were no more related than any other siblings, same as me and Pump. Even sharing a womb didn't usually make people this close, although I bet Pump would have liked to join in this delicious little pile of flesh.

Soon enough, I gave Robin's muffin a cream topping. _Or in this position, was it greasing the baking pan?_ I had tasted Raven and she now tasted me, baking my loaf in her other oven while Robin blotted away some of the grease from the first batch. When Raven got my crust hard once more, I fucked both of them again.

As I sat naked next to my just-as-unclothed girlfriends, I asked "Have you beautiful ladies thought of any baby names?"

"Just something not starting with 'R'," Raven answered and Robin laughed.

"'Pumpernickel' and 'Delly' don't," I said, downcast. "I was thinking of 'Rue' if there was another girl, but that's apparently out of the question."

"I'm glad Pan knows his alphabet," Robin joked. "I'm guessing you were thinking of 'Thresh' for a second boy."

"I was," I said, pleased with her incisiveness. "Tributes fallen on the arena battlefields. Thread's goons couldn't blame us for sympathizing with traitors."

Delly died eighteen days ago, but they were only burying her now, to go along with Pumpernickel. The Capitol held off the funerals until both a district's tributes were dead. Supposedly, the remaining one might become a Victor who'd want to attend the funeral, but really, I think those cheap lazy bastards only wanted to run one train.

There were a whole bunch of Peacekeepers around. To make sure the funeral didn't become a protest against the cause of death. Yet that hadn't happened in all the years I remembered, and we wouldn't dare do it now either, as much as we may want to. Part of this was being very careful with choice of words during the eulogies.

"Pumpernickel fought valiantly, nobly and honorably, I'll try to remember that about my little brother, not that he died," I said. Many older twins teased the younger one for a few minutes' difference, I saw that with Raven and Robin sometimes. Ironically, Pumpernickel had been a bit taller than me, although I wasn't as short as Peeta or our father. Pumpernickel hadn't acted as much like Peeta or our father, but we still hated to see him gone, of course.

"Delly was the kind of positive-hearted girl this world needs more of, not less of, yet the odds weren't in her favor," her aunt Angela said. The two were buried next to each other at one end of the field, in simple pine boxes and with similarly plain wooden markers stuck into the fresh dirt. We almost always had two to lay to rest. I walked across the field to see one year with one and another year with three, yet I lacked for details. Most of the markers had become unintelligible over the decades – the ink had faded and the cuts in the wood which had once held that color were getting worn. A Lily had won before being put here, that seemed like a better potential name for my potential second daughter than most of the other fallen.

I saw someone I knew in Delly's part of the crowd. Delly's cousin Bridget was resting her face on Roadrunner Castle's shoulder, tears added to the sweat that we all seemed drenched with in this summer weather. I overheard them speaking. "Bridge, your cousin was such a sweet girl, all of us in town knew her in some way and we all liked her," Roadrunner said.

She answered with "I know you've spent a lot of time at the Cartwrights pretending to look for shoes but really looking for me. Thank you burning bright amongst these cold cinders".


	5. Phoenix Part II

(Angela Cartwright)

Hah! Wait until my daughter gets a load of this! I'm about to get a load from her boyfriend's brother! There was plenty of Castle man to go around, it seems. I had long since fantasized about fucking a man as young as I was during my glory days knowing what I know now. And one of the things I knew was to not rush to marriage again. Just a good fuck may be just fine. "We're in the construction business, but right now, I'd rather be involved in some cunt destruction," he said sharply while grabbing one of my breasts through the blouse. A good hard fuck, it seemed.

I wouldn't be surprised that he learned some things from his sisters' parade of boyfriends. Amongst other things, Mr. and Mrs. Castle were used to their children's significant others coming and going. They probably didn't dwell on it, but at least they tolerated it from all their children instead of praising their sons and chastising their daughters. Mrs. Castle was excited about grandchildren. I was surprised that she was only just now starting to get them. I'm only in my late 30's, so I had plenty of time left for more kids if that's what the odds favored.

"Angie, you're proof that women are like fine wine, getting better as they age!" he practically yelled at me as we stumbled up to his bedroom.

"What would we know about fine wine, Razor? That certainly wasn't no fine wine we stole from Haymitch!" We had split the small glass bottle of that clear firewater; I don't know where he got it from, but I did know that it made us feel awful good after we got past the awful taste. Haymitch had finished several bottles by himself, pissed off about losing another two tributes, one of them my sweet little niece this time.

"Good point. But I do know that this Razor wants to cut your clothes off!" he shouted back as he did pretty much that. A few blouse buttons popped and I felt my bra hooks dig at my back as he yanked at my tits from the front. _Hell, most men couldn't __figure those out even when sober._

He popped one out to suck on it and "Lower! Lower!" was all I could answer with. He yanked at my pants just as ferociously as my shirt, but with nothing in the way of his hungry mouth this time. "It's all-you-can-eat," I said, rapidly becoming out of breath.

He soon lifted his wet mouth to say "I'm full and you're about to be!" He pulled the tangled bundle of cloth the rest of the way off my legs and lifted my ankles onto his shoulders before ravishing me. Every powerful thrust was not only electric in and of itself, but a pleasant reminder of how desired I was for the first time in well over a decade. He filled me, that's for sure; I looked up to see his seed dripping out of me.

He put my legs down and I slid all the way back onto the bed. He jumped onto the bed and my breasts jiggled as the vibration traveled through the mattress. He wrapped his strong sexy arms around my chest, probably to feel my breasts again. I didn't mind at all, his spirit even more supportive than his hands. The next thing I knew, I saw morning light coming through the window. I had spent the whole night naked atop the young man's bed, with his equally naked body pressed against my back. I didn't regret the deliciously sloppy sex, no not at all.

However, the alcohol was coming back to haunt me. Almost as if on cue, Razorbill grasped his forehead too. He gazed at me while carrying out some semblance of getting dressed. "I'll bring back some cold water for the angel who landed on my bed last night."

"It's Angel_a_. I was no angel last night, I remember that much," I laughed.

"But you look like one now with your blonde halo," he countered. _So rough and so gentle, he might just be a keeper._

I heard additional footsteps as he squeezed through the door he barely opened. "Seems Roadrunner's brother had a hot date last night too". _I'd recognize my Bridget's voice anywhere._

"You know her well," Razorbill joked.

"Hi dear!" I called out through the door. Everybody fell silent for a moment.

"Uh, I'm happy for you?" Bridget stammered.

"Seems you were onto something with this whole Castle boy thing!"

(Cato Adams)

The ash from the arena forest fire had long since been washed off of me, but the glorious memory would always be with me. The conflagration had taken place during the ninth day in the arena, as the Career alliance was disintegrating. Claudia and I had chased Marvel into the woods, and the fire chased him back out. He was running towards a stream to extinguish his burning clothes, and didn't notice my javelin until it was too late. Who'd have thought that the District Twelve boy would die harder than the District One boy?

Glimmer had been a hot piece of ass who could fight, although not well enough, unlike her heroine Sapphire from a few years ago. I was one of the few guys who watched Sapph's bladework as closely as her breasts. I fought with a sword to honor my father who had died with one in his hand, as part of my mission to do what he couldn't. I put in long hours in the caves with the old tough guys, but the footage of the 71st Games had been far more entertaining for the same training purposes. I had to challenge my fellow victor to a duel; we both had ferocious hacking styles and it would be a sight to see. Maybe Atala would let us put on a demonstration in the Training Center.

Clove was no Glimmer or Sapphire, yet I didn't care as I was quickly falling more and more in love with the pint-size prodigy. Glimmer had been a few inches taller than Miss Hawkins and Sapphire was a few inches taller than _me_. Clove was at the front of the crowd when I made the glorious return home I had always dreamed of. Yet I had never expected someone like her. I had jumped off the platform to pick her up at the waist and lift her to my mouth, where I got my first taste of her tongue. Flavia Hawkins was happy for her older sister. The jealousy on many other faces was obvious even at such a happy time.

Even the youngest had remembered the celebration of Maria's victory last year; I recalled the homecomings of Enobaria and Rubeus as well. Some people had been there for all fourteen of our victories, going all the way back to Victor Julianus in the 5th Games, the first ever Career district victor. The old man was even there leaning on his cane to welcome the latest victor not named Victor. It was hardly unprecedented for the same district to win two years in a row; before Maria and me, Lyme and Brutus had done it for us about over three decades ago, and Gloss and Cashmere had done it for District One just eleven and ten years ago. However, three in a row had never been done before, and I was confident the odds were in Patrick Lazare II's favor. District Two had never really fallen; we were just rising yet further.


	6. Phoenix Part III

(Katniss Everdeen)

I emptied another meager breakfast into the dirt of District Twelve. Such was the price of my life, the vicissitudes of creating a new life. Pregnant women often got sick like this; even I knew that much. However, it was a price I never thought I'd pay for whatever reason, let alone to save myself from execution. Perhaps sparing pregnant women a firing squad was a small bit of genuine mercy amongst the lies while we're at their mercy, I thought. Gale may well be dead, but his spirit is still in me as well as his child.

The breakfasts and other meals weren't so meager since I had fallen into Peeta Mellark's arms. With Gale gone and the woods closed off, I honestly didn't know how Prim, Mother and I would have made it otherwise. Even I didn't think he was just bribing me to fall for him. The sensitive little boy had finally found himself man enough to take care of the woman he insisted he loved. A similar flash of genius four and a half years ago left me even able to stand here and think about it.

Insist about his feelings he did, and rather endearingly – even more so since I never thought myself susceptible to such things. "Just think, in seven months, we'll add to our big family of sorts," he said. _This part can't be over soon enough, but what guy could understand, when I can barely understand it myself?_

I was fairly clear that even though it wasn't Peeta's child, he'd hold it as if it was, if only because it was dear Katniss' baby. I hoped they grew as close as I had with my father. If it was a boy, it would almost certainly be another Jacob. For someone who had thought against children, let alone names for them, I came up with that very quickly.

I certainly couldn't much make it another Gale. I didn't want to know what Thread and his goons would do to me for such overt sympathy for a known traitor. Life in District Twelve these days provided plenty of examples of the depths our new Head Peacekeeper could sink to, but I didn't want to dwell on that with the bright spots the Mellarks were in our lives.

Jacob Andrew Everdeen, and Thomas Hawthorne for that matter, were killed in an unfortunate mine explosion, that cause of death being a fact of life here. At least officially. Gale had insisted that the incident which killed our fathers was a setup to eliminate troublemakers and make it look like an accident. He had been the victim of a much more direct approach. He had wanted children, but the crushing poverty and threat of the Games here in our little corner of Panem made a world he didn't want to bring them into. Now that he had a child coming, he wouldn't have the chance to be a father like his father.

Peeta had a girlfriend with a step-child on the way. Maybe he'd even have a wife of me. I would have called myself crazy a couple months ago for thinking of the word in relation to myself, but now it could very well be a couple years in my future. Many young lovers married right after they survived their last reaping, even though it was legal slightly before that. I wouldn't be surprised if Prim and Rory followed four years after me and Peeta. I was making up for lost time; my sister was getting off to an early and quick start.

There was a big 'if', though – the lovebirds would both need to make it through all seven reapings. I didn't need to take tesserae anymore and Prim never would. I suppose that was one of the advantages of having a baker in love with you; even the worst of the stuff the Capitol issued them was better than what one got with tesserae. However, the slips remained in from my last five years of acquiring meager rations that way, and the odds could be not in your favor with even one or a few slips. The reaping ball could pass me by. If it sent me into the arena, would I survive long enough to do much of anything, let alone walk back home to the Justice Building? I could use a bow, but the Careers could use who knows what weapons? I could hunt, but the Cornucopia and sponsors would provide those inner-district volunteers with more than enough food. Pumpernickel Mellark had learned the hard way how difficult it was to match them.

When Peeta talked about his new family, he meant even more than his dream girl and her child. He finally had a real mother figure in my mother. As if on cue, I saw her kiss Peeta's father. I still remembered the spark in my mother's voice when with my father. I didn't see it now, but what I saw was close, and anything would have been a massive improvement over her dead to the world with my father literally dead.

Peeta had an arm around my belly. A more aggressive guy would have that limb around my breasts or my waist. Gale had done so in our little time as lovers, however furtively we had to do the deed. Peeta and I, though, we had plenty of time and cover, at least for now. "I hope having a family with you is everything I've wished it would be, because making love to you is surely everything I've dreamed." It seemed those dreams were rather imaginative.

He just wanted to dance – naked. Even I could figure out this meant sticking it in me while we were standing up, but a few minutes of genuine twirling and footwork made it even more enjoyable when he actually did. I was buzzing with how much I had actually anticipated him, wanted him. He slid out, although I hadn't felt him finish. When he knelt down to kiss my lady parts, I was finished, alright. He stood up to go back in me, but I had a better idea. It was my turn to kneel; I finished him with my mouth instead of starting him with it. "Oh, Katniss!" he shouted as he threw his head back. "Maybe love suits you better than you thought!" _I had avoided love because my mother showed what it was like to lose it, but maybe I should have focused on how great it was while you had it. I saw it coming back to Mother and I felt it myself for the first time. _His seed had a sharp flavor, but I had eaten worse, and would be eating much worse, if anything at all, if it wasn't for my bread boy.

I was saved from tesserae, but I still sometimes had other business at the Justice Building. I saw Rory in line for those meager rations – would've broken Gale's heart and caused him to break other things, but it had to be done. The Mellarks were what passed for the well-to-do of District Twelve, and they had a hard enough time taking care of the three Everdeens along with themselves.

A beautiful fall day was ruined by the dreaded sirens at the mines. It was not quite four years and nine months after my father was killed; it had happened a few times since then, and today was one of those days. As usual, much of the district rushed to the entrances to see who made it back up the elevators – and who didn't.

My mother and sister were amongst the few non-official pale Town faces there – this is what their skill in treating burns was for. Her family had the medicines, but didn't care to expend them on the Seam rats who couldn't pay for them anyway. Thread wanted to leave them to Capitol doctors who my mother said were doing half-assed work. Some miners who were supposedly taken home to die were actually brought to our part of town to be patched up. As it was, my family left a few alive with scars or missing limbs instead of gone forever.

The winter hit early and hard. And this was coming from someone who now lived in one of the relatively sturdy Merchant Section houses! This particular one needed ovens blasting to serve its purpose, and sleeping behind the kitchen cuddled next to Peeta cut the chill like nothing else. I wasn't sure which did the trick, but with my teeth not chattering for once, I wasn't complaining. The boys found it in them to bake around the clock except when the ovens needed to be turned off for cleaning, so the furnaces could be run as often as possible.

Some people came to my mother with winter ailments. We often weren't quite alone behind the kitchen, with a few of the worst hypothermia cases thawing out in there. The Capitol relied on social disfavor to keep Town away from Seam, with our looks to mark the differences real and imagined. They brushed off a few exceptions like us with the expectation that it be kept down to a few exceptions. Thread and his goons brutally enforced what Capitol law was, but the one thing I credited them for was not going even farther than that rich city dictated.

It darn near broke my heart to see Posy amongst the freezing, even after all I'd been through. "C-c-can't wait to b-b-be Auntie Posy" she stuttered through shivers while pointing at my belly. The adults and the older kids knew it was going to grow, but it was a surprise to little Posy until she actually saw it happening.

"Hell of a birthday," Hazelle muttered when about to take her baby back home. Posy had barely beat the measles when she was younger. Hazelle was downright angry about the district's run-down conditions putting her through that again, as well she should be. I suppose Capitol clothes could be warm as well as ridiculous. Capitol buildings would be sturdy enough to not let in the heat and more than the bakers had furnaces. Everyone needed to eat, so I suppose even the Capitol had bakeries. They almost certainly had Avoxes doing the worst of the work, though. Losing their tongues and enslaved as punishment for some crime or another, the Capitol cruelly multitasked there. I'm almost certain that's where our district's few remaining overt criminals were shipped off to.

"Happy birthday," Peeta told Posy, giving her small round tan cookies with pink frosting puffs on top of them.

"Food in my favorite color," she said in awe. I knew better than anyone how a few assarions' worth of food could make a huge difference in a starving person's life.

Even the Peacekeeper uniform and barracks would have been an improvement in this weather, but few in the district dared consider joining the scum who put us in that situation, which would have helped the Capitol oppress the people who remained. Some of our Hob friends had explained that their working inside the system was an exception, that they beat it out of most recruits. The Castle twins' older brothers had thought about becoming _military_ construction workers, but the ban of spouse or children would have been too much of a problem for them. One of them had already started. Mayor Larkin's ex-wife, now dating the older one Razorbill, would give birth only a couple months after I would.

Soon enough, it was time for a Victory Tour, almost always starting in District Twelve, rarely ever having a reason to end there. Most Peacekeepers came from District Two, I knew that much, so it wasn't surprising for them to a bit more enthusiastic for one of their own. However, I saw one of Thread's officers especially happy to see Cato. "You lucky bastard," I overheard. "Behave, so the odds remain ever in your favor."

Thread was much stricter than Cray about most everything, including making us pretend to be enthusiastic about this. Cato felt no need to cast smiles at the girls here, considering the feisty little lady he knew back home, and I had a feeling she was glad of that. However, he was a appealing guest nevertheless. "I have a new respect for the districts out here seeing how well they could fight. I mean it when I say my victory was no sure thing," he said. _It was ironic that the arena, the centerpiece of Capitol oppression partially because it set the districts against each other, was the only thing that brought the districts together at all._

The Victory Tour stop was one of the few days when all of District Twelve ate well. Even so, the meal was scraps, relatively speaking. The Mellarks put some of their stale bread to use in toast form. Rooba, the town butcher, stewed up some tough cuts. I knew her well, as she had often give me and Gale a fair price on large game. She had escaped Thread's purge of the Hob crowd, for she only had Capitol meat when the new Peacekeepers came calling.

Cato's stylist had given him something warm. We didn't have such a service available. No sooner did we retreat to the Mellark bakery kitchen that we got a knock on the door. It was a Peacekeeper, though if he was about to haul us away, he would have been much ruder about barging in. Judging by the single bronze bar on each sleeve, he was a minor officer, perhaps the same one who had enthusiastically greeted the new Victor at the train station.

"I understand this is the former residence of fallen tribute Pumpernickel Mellark," he said officiously.

"It is," Mr. Mellark admitted sadly.

"The victor asked me to send this along to his family." The Peacekeeper produced what was obviously a money bag, opened to reveal one hundred shiny silver pieces with the District Two seal. "His words," the Peacekeeper added, with a note. _I won this partially at his expense, so I figured he should get part of it. I can't buy him back, but I figured you'd need this now if ever._ If the fallen tribute had come from the Seam, that would have been even more true, I mused. Well, it was more than I expected from a Career tribute, or from one of the new Peacekeepers. We'd never get the Hob atmosphere back, but this guy wasn't so bad.

Thread didn't let up on anything, including the Victory Tour after it left District Twelve. Cray had half-assed managing the District Twelve stop, let alone the rest of the thing. So we'd have a different indignity to muddle through for a couple weeks.


	7. Dominance And Submission

(Coriolanus Snow)

Cato Adams was almost my ideal Victor. He gladly volunteered and smiled as he stood atop the bodies, enjoying every minute of the honor and glory my propaganda told the country it was.

He wasn't perfect, though, making clear he wasn't single as he aggressively kissed his girlfriend on returning home. It was one of my many dirty secrets that I forced attractive Victors to prostitute themselves to Capitol citizens. I could've gotten plenty of money and curried plenty of political favor by using him. After all, even the Victors, the mightiest of the districts' population, were just resources to be used by the Capitol.

I was an expert at having people killed and making it look like an accident, tell it to Haymitch Abernathy or Johanna Mason, but I couldn't much disappear Clove Hawkins. The whole Hawkins family played by my rules. Clove and her younger sister Flavia both trained to become Victors. Their older brother Alexander was a Peacekeeper, like their father before them and probably going back further. There was a tradition of service with Cato's ancestors as well.

I knew that law enforcement depended on people volunteering to provide the force. I didn't want rebellious or just plain disinterested conscripts inside the system; the cadre of loyalists would have had to control them as well as the civilians. Fortunately for me and the other Capitol elite, the District Two propaganda machine kept running smoothly.

Cato played by my rules, too, even though his father died in the arena. Maybe even because of that – he seemed like one of those boys who tried to outdo the old man. I would know. My father had been a minor political functionary before he was murdered by rebel assassins during the Dark Days. I learned that when I was older, and was determined to rise higher than he had. On the way up and once I got there, I was resolved to suppress rebellion even more thoroughly. I was living my dream, and his and everyone else's seemed petty by comparison.

I checked Peacekeeper personnel records – Clove's brother Alexander was a field officer, the Lieutenant in charge of 1st Platoon, 1st Company, 3rd Battalion, 12th Peacekeepers.

For years, I had been concerned about the relative lack of criminal activity reported from District Twelve. However much my forces kept the population down, there were always isolated incidents of desperate people rising up. It showed a lack of internal discipline to do what they weren't supposed to, and my forces were glad to apply external discipline.

I worried that District Twelve appearing calm was a sign that its lawbreaking was being ignored. I was right. Two men were ringleaders of the poachers, trespassers, traitors and even I lost track of what else. Of course, they were coal miners, like anyone else in District Twelve poor enough to consider such foolishness. I had some especially trustworthy Peacekeepers rig a mine explosion to kill the pair of scumballs.

I figured it would break the resistance to eliminate its two figureheads. To do it quietly meant that I wouldn't have to divert forces from traitors elsewhere. Eleven was always particularly unruly, and it produced most of the food the nation depended on. Twelve just produced some coal for heating, the coke ovens at the steel mills out west, and some of the District Five powerplants.

To subtly execute those District Twelve traitors would also avoid riling up that district's surviving malcontents. To quell a riot would have been even more trouble than to reinforce the District Twelve Peacekeepers as a preemptive threat. I figured the families of those miners would have been the most trouble, having been poisoned by their relatives' rebellious propaganda. Perhaps this move would nip that in the bud.

I installed a new Head who was supposed to take a firm hand if the situation spiraled back out of control. Yet in another few years, I was getting worried again about the lack of reported activity. I knew I'd need to lay the heavy hand at some point soon. I debated whether to fix this problem before the 74th Games or after. If I waited, perhaps a victory would have mollified them or other problematic districts, and it would have given me more time to plan to action in general. If I struck as soon as possible, I wouldn't have to worry about the Games going bad for them and fanning the flames of discontent.

Whenever it happened, the fiercely loyal and extremely ambitious Romulus Thread would be the man for the job. He wanted to prove his devotion despite coming from the nondescript District Eight, and that he had. Many of the few other outer-district recruits muddled through their service for a lack of other options.

One of my intelligence agents reported the District Twelve mayor himself buying produce stolen from the Capitol's woods. I raged at the mayor being part of the problem too, as opposed to a good mayor failing to work with a recalcitrant Head Peacekeeper. I had snapped an order to prepare my flight to District Eight. That was all my personal assistant needed to know; I had General Travers make the military logistics arrangements to actually move the reinforcements into position.

My promptness was a smashing success. The newly promoted Colonel Thread caught the son of one of the fallen miners and the daughter of another poaching together. They would have been executed together, but the boy had managed to get the girl pregnant. I had long since supported a moratorium on execution for pregnant women. For some reason, the death of a fetus inflamed the population more than the death of an already-born criminal. Hopefully, the close call would intimidate the mother and contribute to the loyalty of the child. The nation's population crisis didn't need it anyway.

District Twelve nearly won the 74th Games, and Thread's implements of destruction kept the grumbling under control, whereas some of the fraternizing Peacekeepers might have joined in the complaining. Thread had executed Cray right away, and weeded out some of the other mutineers even before the Games, cowing the others.

District Eleven was, all things considered, a success for Capitol law enforcement, but I had needed to talk to General Claudius Domitian about his sky-high expenses for whips. I ascertained that was truly necessary to punish criminals, warn them not to do it again and warn their fellow workers not to do it in the first place, so I gladly disbursed the funds.

If more than the bare minimum was being spent in the districts, that meant less for Capitol luxury. We deserved the best as the fruits of victory, and it kept Capitol citizens pacified with distraction instead of force.

I had worried the 11th Peacekeepers may have been using those whips for some sort of sexual depravity. I had no problem whatsoever with sexual depravity, although my personal hot-blooded days were long gone.

However, any sort of sexual contact was banned in the corps. With it came all sorts of problems, which I supported trying to eliminate instead of trying to manage. There was the worry that such personnel would be loyal to lovers or children instead of the country. It would have spoken to a lack of discipline. Since time immemorial, prostitutes and the freely promiscuous contributed mightily to soldiers' morale. However, with that came sexually transmitted diseases, and with female soldiers, pregnancies. Soldiers' sex lives could simply distract them, and it could further inflame a civilian population; both of those factors had been problems with the late Walter Cray.

All these thoughts of internal enemies reminded me that Panem had one external enemy. District Thirteen had been a major fortress for the Capitol, with weapons up to and including nuclear missiles. The district had broken away from the Capitol during the Dark Days when rebels stole its weapons, leading to a stalemate that leaders on neither side could break. We had replaced it with a facility out west in the mountains of District Two, but I still dreamed of the Capitol marching back in to Thirteen. However, traitors in the districts the Capitol still controlled would be emboldened and empowered by Thirteen's support, so I wanted to continue to keep the two groups separate.

My attention was brought back to the responsibility to host the Capitol stop on the Victory Tour. Cato Adams was here now, enjoying the festivities, the last step before making another glorious return home. My granddaughter was enjoying too much of the distilled portion of the festivities. "Unlucky for me that girl from home got to you first!" she shouted. She was likely going to get a night with Finnick Odair for her 18th birthday and had apparently gotten a slightly different idea last summer. Likewise, her mother, my daughter, had her _admirers_ since my son-in-law died of food poisoning after questioning my leadership abilities. Well, plenty of guys got prostitutes for their sons – I would know, having facilitated some of those arrangements, and this was really no different.

The Victory Tour concluded the cycle of rituals for a particular year's Games, although those affected would be stuck with a lifetime of reminders. The whole country would be reminded not to rebel, the taking of tributes as a warning of the Capitol's power and its willingness to use it.

The rituals for this year's Games began earlier than usual. Every twenty-five years, there was a special twist in the rules. This kept the excitement of the Games and the warning to the viewers from getting stale. Even I didn't know what the twist was going to be. The creators of the Games had written the rules on cards and sealed them in yellow envelopes. The small box containing these stacks of cards was one of the most secured documents of the Panem government; once retrieved by a multitude of high-ranking Peacekeepers, the President read that year's card in a live television broadcast.

I had been President since just before the last time. That card reading had gone well, even though the ensuing Games hadn't. Haymitch Abernathy dared insult the Games in his interview and won them with an unexpected trick. The Capitol was not to be outsmarted, so I made him pay dearly for that stunt.

The concept of the Quarter Quell was a wonderful part of my predecessors' great work. The box was presented to me by a small boy, who I think was General Travers' son Charles. I picked the third envelope from the first row and cracked it open to read aloud "To remind the districts of both the Capitol's punishment and its mercy, if a tribute's district partner dies they both die, but the final remaining district pair wins together." I wasn't sure what to make of it.

It could be good, to help ensure yet another victory for the loyal inner districts – one of the less enthusiastic outer districts would have to come up with two good tributes instead of just one. Maria had won the 73rd Games before Cato emerged as the Victor of the 74th, setting up the possibility of an unprecedented three victories in a row for the same district. Even more favoritism to the volunteer districts would increase the probability of this appealing storyline. Which inner district won wouldn't make much difference in the outer districts.

Chrome Goldman of One had broken Lyme and Brutus' streak in the 44th Games, only to see his son and daughter's streak left unextended by Finnick in the 65th Games. Chrome's other son, the daughter of a District Two victor, and the children of the District Two mayor were all amongst the potential volunteers this year. As Head Gamemaker Seneca Crane, going into his fourth year, put it, "This should be a very interesting mix."

I had considered the possibility of looking at the card ahead of time and changing it. However, there were some things that even I hesitated to do. I hadn't had a better idea, certainly not one good enough to merit the highly irregular procedure. Law was the main thing I had on my side, and even with repercussions highlight unlikely, I skirted that very carefully.


	8. Summer Of 75

(Katniss Everdeen)

My mind was filling with dread as my belly was filling with a child. I continued to want Jacob as a boy's name, but I still couldn't decide on a girl's name. I was sometimes congratulated on so pronounced a baby bump, and the soon-to-be grandmothers said this was fairly normal. I worried about the Games a bit more than usual, but even with me gone, the baby would be in good hands with them and its uncles and aunts.

Mother had been passing along her experience from being pregnant with me and later Prim – the good, bad and the ugly. Many people had avoided the Everdeens out of anger. In their eyes, it was a horrible thing for people from different parts of the district to love one another and it was even worse for them to create a new life together. Even my father caught some hard stares from his fellow Seam folks; they felt he had abandoned his own people by loving another. Yet in my parents' eyes, it was nothing but beautiful and that's what had kept them moving forward. Thinking about the relationship they once had inspired the one I currently had.

With the woods closed off, I sometimes found myself with less to do, even after helping at the bakery. I had sometimes consigned myself to listening to the girl talk at school. Ironically, I was one of the few Seam girls that hadn't dreamed of having Gale's babies, and now I was the one actually doing so. And very soon.

Madge was one of the people happy for the soon-to-be new mother, and I actually knew her instead of brushing off compliments from strangers. I had halfway ignored her in my struggle to survive, but I had a better friend than I had known. I was hopeless at playing the piano, but I learned much more than that. "Apparently you were just a late bloomer, but I've never been attracted to boys at all," she said. "Even Gale didn't tempt me. I figured you were like that too."

"Like what?" I asked back. I honestly had no clue what she meant by 'that'.

"Attracted to girls instead," she smiled.

"I didn't even know that was possible. Well, you're still the same girl that's always sat with me at school."

One evening in March, soon after what would have been Gale's 19th birthday, I was tossing and turning in my bed. Peeta, passing through the house on his way to his own, sensed how bitter I was. "Katniss? Don't let the Capitol crush your spirit, your beautiful spirit," he said in a sweet voice reserved for me and the few other people he loved.

Then he sat down on the bed and winked. He lifted the covers and peeled away my top, gazing longingly at my chest. "Your breasts look even prettier when they swell, someone's gonna eat well for the next few months." Apparently that someone was him right now. Not only were they bigger, they were also more sensitive, so I reacted instantly when he put his mouth to one of them. "I was experiencing hunger of a different kind. Since that felt good, imagine how good it will feel to have your baby there, only a few weeks now."

"Can't be soon enough! Oof, it's kicking, feel that!" He gladly put his hands all over my belly to feel the vibrations himself. Once the little one went to sleep for the night, so did we. There was something about his tender but possessive touch that always comforted me when I needed and deserved it most; he senses those times and now was certainly one of them.

It wasn't quite four weeks later, on April 1st after breakfast, when the new Everdeen decided to join us. I felt and heard a splash on the floor. Prim and Mother both turned to the sound. "Yeah, Little Duck, my water just broke!" I shouted back at them. The two of them hastily cleared off my bed to make the room simple but clean. I hobbled there after them.

Mother stressed the importance of cleanliness for anyone involved. At one point she shouted "Far too many women have gotten sick from dirty birthing rooms, and she will not be one of them!" She turned directly to me and said "I'm sorry dear, but since your woods have been cut off, I've run very low on painkiller herbs."

"I'm the sorry one!" I shouted back. "Oww!" I moaned. I thought I was used to pain, but no, despite many friendly warnings from her and others.

"Push, dear, push," she said as she squeezed my left hand and Little Duck held the right.

Peeta had just come back from some morning deliveries. He immediately realized the reason for the commotion, and ran right back out to get the surviving Hawthornes. Hazelle, as a laundress, could easily put down her work and return to it later. Posy didn't start school until the fall. Explanations could be made to Rory, Prim and Vick's teacher. Mine foremen would not have taken excuses.

I had Mr. Mellark run across town to go get Madge – she was one of my few friends, after all. Also, she was going to bring a blank birth certificate and take a few pictures afterwards.

Prim and Mother were the only people in the room with me until Madge came running. She was carrying a wooden rack with a needle and six glass vials. Morphling was always precious, but right now the golden liquid was worth its weight in gold. "Thank you, Madge!" _agh!_ "Right now, please!" Mother broke the seal on one of the bottles and picked up the needle, drawing the vial's contents into the chamber of the syringe. She found a vein in my arm and pushed down the plunger. The momentary stab turned my unpleasant mental and physical fog into a tolerable one.

I looked out to see the Hawthornes making their mad dash from the Seam. I heard Vick shout "Katniss about to pop!" _Well, he had a point._

Little Duck called out "We have a head!" I was seated somewhat upright in the bed, so I could see the baby just starting to come out of me with a thin coat of dark hair on its head. "What looks like a boy's head," she soon added. It seemed hours later and may well have been by the time my new son fully emerged from me. Mother used a pair of scissors sterilized in boiling water to snip the umbilical cord. It was a relief to hear him crying instead of me. It was magical when I took him into my arms and he stopped doing it.

"We can call the other folks in once we've cleaned up a bit of this mess," Mother decreed. Mom and Little Duck took turns holding Jacob while the other worked, grandmother and aunt now, not just birth attendants. "Come on in!" she called to the friends and relatives waiting outside the room. This included Madge with her camera.

Peeta was the first to hold her after the three of us. "You're so cute! Well, with Katniss as your mommy, of course you are!" Peeta and Mr. Mellark wer convincing cooing over the son and grandson not their own.

As Peeta held Jacob close, Posy looked up at them. Gale was the closest she once had to a father figure, and this child would never know its biological father either. "Wow, is not doll, is real baby!" she exclaimed. Mother had found a little chair elsewhere in the bakery's living space and brought it nearby for the youngest previously-born person here. Posy sat in it before Peeta knelt down to lay the baby in Posy's arms. "Auntie Posy loves you!" she said, again speaking enthusiastically.

"Aren't they all just so precious?" Hazelle observed.

The birth certificate pointedly named Gale as the father. As we signed it along with Mother as the midwife, I thought _What are the goons in District Twelve's new management going to think of this? Well, it's the truth._

"We all have to grow up too fast out here," Mom told Peeta, "and we've long since known how well you rose to that challenge, but still – good man. A lot of sixteen year olds would stick someone else with their baby instead of claiming someone else's baby." Then she said something embarrassing but necessary. "You two are going to need to give that part of her body a rest for a few weeks."

I needed all sorts of rest right now. There was a cradle next to my bed for baby Jacob, and we both went to sleep. Mother had warned me to savor the time the baby spent sleeping.

As I changed his cloths one day, I muttered "How does someone so little crap so much?"

Prim was nearby, and cheerfully answered "Because of how much he eats. He likes your breasts even more than Peeta does." Both of them made it much more bearable to keep on living in the circumstances in which we found ourselves.

(Angela Cartwright)

I'd become a new mother and a wife again during the summer of 75. In that order. Two decades ago, I learned my lesson about a pregnancy-prompted rush to the Justice Building, and I didn't care to repeat that mistake. _Let's see what kind of father the father of my child is before I marry him._ Razorbill knew how I felt about that, but we had been together for nearly a year anyway, so I knew he was going to ask soon.

Ingrid Everdeen helped me deliver what turned out to be a big baby boy. She had done this many times before, but was especially familiar with midwifery lately. Her first grandchild on April 1st, Raven and Robin's babies Pumpernickel II and Delly on May 18th; those names meant a lot to all of us. And now me with David.

I didn't expect Razorbill to propose as soon as our newborn was put into his arms. He knelt down cradling the baby and said "Will the beautiful mother of this child become my wife?" I was overcome with the tenderness of the moment, and couldn't resist saying yes. I just hoped the appendage next to the pinky was the right finger to give a man this time.

Roadrunner couldn't resist following up, also picking this moment to say something we all knew was coming. "Will her even more lovely daughter become _my_ wife?"

"So we're becoming Mrs. Castle together," Bridget answered.

Ingrid clapped. Having been so happily married once, she knew how much it meant.

August 2nd would be a good time to actually head to the Justice Building. Many younger lovebirds married right after their last reaping, and many older couples joined what was by District Twelve standards an extravagant party. Bridget, not to mention Raven and Robin, had experienced that grim relief last near. Even with her cousin dying, we were glad it wasn't her, another cold touch on our grim reality.

At least Delly's relatives had longer to absorb the final shock than did Pumpernickel's relatives. _Priscilla Black, I would be a bit more distraught over __my__ child's death!_ During the middle of that August, I had figured my daughter was onto something with Roadrunner's comforting touch. Smiling at his older brother, I wasn't so lonely any more. I was quite glad to learn that Razorbill could fuck me better than I'd ever been fucked before, but I fell in love with how gently he had treated me the next morning.

The first bouts of morning sickness hadn't surprised me in the least. Considering how often Razorbill made love to his Angel(a), it was bound to happen sooner rather than later. One time I simply looked up at him while he climbed on top of me, but the way he drank in my body with both eyes and hands had electrified me even before his penis made that straightforward entrance. Once I woke up to feel his tight chest press up against my back. A whispered yet giddy "Ah, my alarm cock is about to go off!" had been the cue for him to take my front from behind.

For our impending wedding, Razorbill had paid Haymitch for liquor this time. He got out four glasses, rather than sloppily chugging and passing the bottle. The firewater was topped off with a sweet orange liquid, both to dilute the booze and mask the taste.

Many couples who had married on a previous August 2nd went to congratulate the current year's newlyweds. None were happier than Ruth and Russel Castle, who on their twenty-fifth anniversary would watch their sons take the same great step.

"Treat her better than I did," Fergus admitted. The crowd appreciated the boss' self-deprecating humor.

Razorbill answered this too with "I will" and the laughs picked up.

"I admit I'm 36, but my lovebird makes me feel like an infatuated teenager again," I said to the whole crowd. My daughter, herself still an actual teenager, knew full well how that worked with my both brother-in-law and son-in-law.


End file.
